Wendi {at random}

I almost, nearly but not quite, marched the 248 steps (the equivalent of 12 stories) up Cape Hatteras Lighthouse today. In the end, the threat of humanity packed inside a dim and sticky-hot capsule of concrete and steel canceled out any real considerations. Sir Curt and the boys (not to be confused with the pop band that must surely go by that very hip name) did it in my stead. Here's what they saw.
Somebody who didn't die of humanityclaustrophobia on the way up the stairs took this photo of my boys. I chose the one that makes them all look their best most dashing selves. Curt says he looks like Tony Soprano. I'm sorta seein' it. I could be a mob wife if I put my mind to it. hehehe
This is the reason I wouldn't venture on this venture. Excepting if they'd allow only me to do it. No others. Just me. Just my breath. Just my body. Just my space. No others may intrude within this tunnel of light.

It's a very famous tunnel of light, as it goes. Did you know that in the 1930s the lighthouse turned off its glow? The beach was eroding so quickly that they thought the entire structure was ready to topple into the sea, so they built an ugly steel structure that resembles an electric power line tower and propped a light atop that. Then, lo and behold, by the 1950s, the beach had restored itself and the famous Cape Hatteras Lighthouse was useful again! So it was relit, but -- DRAT -- the famous Fresno lenses had suffered a pillage of souvenir hunters' 20-year reign. You see, the lighthouse was actually not locked up while on the dark side. Not locked up! Can you believe that?! They did not lock the door - literally, the Park Ranger told me. There must be pieces of the 1930s lighthouse all over the country.
Sir Curt snapped this shot today on his ascent. We neither of us know if this is the old latitude/longitude or the new one. No matter. They moved the dang thing 2900 feet in 1999 to get it away from the encroaching seas. Fascinating piece of history this tower is. I know. I paid $21.00 for the DVD recounting its tale. I should watch this every day for the rest of summer to commit it to memory.